The war inside
by GaijinVicarious
Summary: He truly was alone.Even under Xavier´s roof he had been alone. Bobby had Marie the woman he loved to hate only because he couldn't have her not because of bobby but for what he was.Read and Review please


**Title:** The war inside  
**Fandom:** Xmen  
**Pairing/Character:** Pyro (slight Ryro pairing)  
**Rating:** M  
**Summary:** Anger, tiredness and betrayal, he´s all alone , always been alone.  
**A/N:** taking place after Alcatraz, short fic (so far), lyrics by Johnette Napolitano- suicide song (Underworld soundtrack), i do NOT own any of the people, places nor the song.

The cold water washed over him .  
Cleaning him from dirt and blood.  
His veins jumped a pace every time the water poured into one of his many wounds both old as new.  
Blood mixed with water sipped down the drain while the walls surrounding him created mysterious signs from bloody fingerprints .

_Every night  
You wrote another line  
With a bloody, broken, bottle  
And every day._

Anger, tiredness, betrayal swallowed his soul as he stood there in the shower staring into the wall with both hands on each wall to keep him from falling down.  
Angry because bobby had defeated him in the worse pathetic way right in front of them.  
Tired from the escape of Alcatraz before Phoenix had burned him into nothing.  
Betrayed by the brotherhood who had gotten Magneto out but left him to his destiny.

_You wish it away  
Why don't you pull the pin  
On that grenade  
You cuddle_

He truly was alone.  
Even under Xavier´s roof he had been alone. Bobby had Marie the woman he loved to hate only because he couldn't have her not because of bobby but for what he was.  
What she was.  
And the brotherhood along with Magneto only used him for whom he was he had realized that after Phoenix arrived.  
Slowly he sank to the floor, the pain shoot thru him as a stung gun causing him to bend forward so fast that the headache got heavier making a few unnoticed tears to escape his painful eyes. He ran his fingers through the now dirty blond hair as he laid down on the floor letting the water drown him.

_I wanted to believe  
Bodies swinging from trees  
Struggling to stand  
With your head in your hands  
A stoic last stand  
Of a dying man_

20 minutes later he opened his eyes, the water still washing over him.   
He felt weak, lost to much blood but the pain has gone numb.  
He slowly reached to shut the water off and in slow motion crawled out of the shower, his skin pale and crumbled from staying under water for to long, his lungs sore from the cold water he had tortured his body with.  
Coughing as he reached for a towel, he laid down on his left side until he could find the strength to stand up.  
Yet again the headache reminded him of the pain his body suffered.

_I wanted to believe  
As I watched your world  
Crumble in your hands  
I wanted to believe  
As you raised your glass  
For your last stand  
And I wanted to believe  
You would win  
The war inside your head  
That I did not understand  
That I did not understand_

Slowly he stood up on shaky and weak legs.  
Every motion he did was if someone punched the air out of him, he reached for his green black randy boxers, holding to the sink as he pulled them up just above his hips.  
He struggled as he tried getting the grey T-shirt over his head and down his shoulders where wounds still where healing.  
He turned to the little mirror above the sink while dragging the comb thru his now half dried hair. As he stood there he stared into the mirror in front of him, his deep dark eyes where bloodstained and full of pain and the fire inside seemed to die every minute.

_Every night  
The questions poured out  
Of your wounded eyes  
Damn dark things  
Every day  
_

The feelings inside surfaced yet again  
Hadn't he always been alone? And yet became stronger from his loneliness.  
Did he wish he wasn't a mutant?.  
Did he wish he couldn't manipulate fire?.  
His only friend when the world seemed to dislike him.  
He walked into the living room his eyes where searching for the metal zippo, when he couldn't find it thru his torn clothes nor in the sofa or anywhere in the living room he walked into his small bedroom, the walls where dark and naked, a small mattress with a pillow and a blue sheet laid all alone in the middle of the room, next to it an old newspaper and a glass of scotch made the room look like a prison cell, there above the newspaper laid the metal zipper. As he throw himself on the bed he grabbed the zipper, opened it just to close it fast again, the sound from the metal meeting metal silent his thoughts.  
Staring into the ceiling he drifted away, the images of Alcatraz flashed before his eyes, he hadn't seen her, why wasn't she there?.  
Why had they left him there to die, he was only knocked out, not like magneto who lost his powers yet they left _Him_ there to die, but he hadn't, he had been sheltered by a car until he had been able to crawl to the shores and swim until he lost conscious again only to be later found by hikers and brought to a hospital which he had escaped before they had found out who he was.

_You used to pray  
Listen to the black raven sing  
You wanted to believe  
As you where falling to your knees  
Struggling to stand  
With your life in your hand  
The sad last stand  
Of a broken man_

He sat up grabbing the scotch glass and sweeping it all at once, frowning from the sour taste.  
He flipped opened the zippo who been laying tightly in his palm, lit it while digging in a green military bag that laid on the left side of the bed. In the little secret pocket inside the bag he found his lucky strikes. He had started smoking a few months ago, he said it was to look cool but the real truth where to choke those dark burning feelings within him. Feelings he once used to hate then love and now, well now he simply couldn't control them as they had became him, taking him over, making him into a dangerous mutant yet no one took him serious except Magneto had as he once thought but now that was all a lie, A lie or was it?.  
He inhaled the nicotine spreading thru the cigarette while rubbing his temples as the headache once again surfaced.

_I wanted to believe  
As I watched your world  
Crumble in your hands  
I wanted to believe  
As you raised your glass  
To your last stand  
And I wanted to believe  
You would win  
The war in your head  
That I did not understand  
That I did not understand  
_

He stood up and walked out to the kitchen with the whiskey glass in one hand and the half burned cigarette in the other.  
The kitchen where deserted apart from the old chines food on the counter and the half filled scotch bottle on the desk near the sink, he had sworn to stop drinking but he couldn't as there where to many feelings, to many nightmares haunting him thru sleepless nights.  
He opened the bottle with the cigarette in his mouth and poured another glass of scotch , in a notch he had sweeped the scotch and poured another glass in silent.

_And the questions poured out  
And the questions poured out  
I did not understand  
I did not understand  
I did not understand  
I did not understand  
The sound of you falling  
I did not understand  
As the trembling heart of a man  
I did not understand  
The sound of a trembling heart  
_  
Leaning against the kitchen counter as the alcohol slowly started to work a barely audible knock on his front door could be heard thru the ghost silent apartment. Annoyed at whom ever that just disturbed his peace he walked to the door, dizzy and sleepy as the alcohol now had taken control of his mind and soul.  
He opened the door slowly to see who it was as he hadn't ordered anything and his mail hadn't come around for years.  
Silently he stood there staring into a pair of eyes, shocked to see who the person standing in front of him was.  
Confused to know how _she_ could have found him.


End file.
